


The Prince and the Goatherd

by unbirthdaydance



Category: SHINee
Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 20:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbirthdaydance/pseuds/unbirthdaydance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Minho invites his lover to a royal ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince and the Goatherd

Minho waits in the ill-kept wreck of an abandoned barn on the edge of the castle main. It’s not a particularly suitable place for a prince to wait, being rather overrun with mice and fleas and molding hay. It is, however, very private. No one would ever think to eavesdrop on Minho here.

Some long minutes after Minho arrives, the person he’s been waiting for tumbles through the barn door.

“Sorry I’m late!” gasps Kibum. “I- lamp- fire- things-”

He doubles over to splay his hands on his thighs, head bent, panting for breath. Minho eyes him for a moment, amused at the rare vision of Kibum exhausted by sprinting here. Kibum _hates_ running.

Then he says: “A fire? Are you all right?”

Kibum nods. “Yeah. I just got distracted while finishing up some things and knocked over a lamp. My table got a little scorched, but that’s it.”

Minho smiles and strolls casually closer.

“Care to tell me what you were distracted by?”

Kibum straightens and rolls his eyes. “Oh please, like you even have to ask.”

Minho is finally close enough to reach out and lift Kibum’s chin with the curve of a finger. He steps forward so that they are only inches apart, their lips near touching.

“Well, I am your prince,” he murmurs, playful. “I think it only proper that you satisfy my curiosity and tell me what so distracted you that you almost set fire to your home.”

Kibum glances down, eyelashes fluttering over the curve of his cheekbones.

“You, obviously,” he says. “I was thinking about you.”

Minho rests their foreheads together, smile widening into a pleased grin.

“And what exactly were you thinking about me?”

Kibum curls his fingers in the fabric of Minho’s expensive tunic. His gaze is still cast down, but he’s begun to smirk in that smug, dimpled way of his.

“I’m not sure it’s appropriate to discuss with my prince,” Kibum breathes, his voice wickedly sweet. “I was theorizing about a number of very interesting athletic positions which are surely not polite to express in such august compa- _mmph._ ”

Minho silences his teasing with a kiss. Kibum immediately kisses back, open-mouthed and eager. Minho takes his time, savoring every little contented hum Kibum makes in appreciation of Minho’s mouth on his.

When finally they part, both are flushed and a little breathless. Minho beams at Kibum and cups Kibum’s face in his hands, suffused with a sudden wash of deep affection.

Kibum grins back, eyes sparkling happily at the contact.

“So,” he says. “If your highness is willing, I’d be flattered to demonstrate in great detail about those positions I mentioned earlier…”

Minho laughs and pulls Kibum in for another kiss, this time quicker and gentler. Kibum gives a disappointed huff when they break apart.

“No,” says Minho. “We can do that later. I actually have something I need to talk to you about.”

Kibum frowns. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Minho slides his hands down and tangles his fingers with Kibum’s own, giving them a slight, reassuring squeeze.

“No, it _is_ good,” he says. “You know there’s a ball planned for later this month, right?”

Kibum nods, brows furrowed. “Yes, it’s been all the gossip about the city recently.”

“I have to bring an escort, as always,” says Minho. He takes a deep breath. “I’d like to bring you.”

“ _Me?_ ” Kibum’s eyes widen. “But I’m no noble.”

“I know,” says Minho. “But, well…” he shrugs. “I like you. Wouldn’t it be fun to attend the ball with me?”

“Maybe?” says Kibum. His voice is several notes higher-pitched than usual. “But I wouldn’t know what to _do_ or to _say_ or to _wear_ or anything!”

“I’ll find you something to wear,” Minho reassures him. “And your manners aren’t awful. You’d be fine, I promise.”

“Won’t someone have a problem with you bringing some random peasant, though?” Kibum asks. “I mean, I look after the king’s _goats_ for a living! That’s not exactly a ticket to high society.”

“You do more than just look after the goats,” says Minho. He takes a small step back for emphasis. “Kibum. I’m a _prince_. That basically means I can do whatever I want, _including_ bringing you as my escort for the night. Others have done much stranger things, believe me. There was this one time my childhood friend Lord Jinki lost a bet and had to bring his pet rooster…”

“Well, I’m glad I rank higher than a rooster in the social scheme of things,” Kibum huffs, folding his arms over his chest.

Minho sighs and presses a soft kiss to the bridge of Kibum’s nose. He lingers there until some of the tension fades from Kibum’s slim frame, then draws back.

“Please,” he says. “Come with me. It would mean so much to me.”

It’s Kibum’s turn to sigh. Minho waits, anxious.

“All right,” Kibum finally agrees, grudgingly. “But you’d better give me a rundown of castle manners before I screw up and get myself executed. God forbid I accidentally wash my hands in the royal soup or something.”

Minho beams and draws him in for another, longer, kiss.

~~~

Kibum waits at one of the small back entrances to the castle that only servants use. He’d come three hours early as Minho had requested in order for Minho’s servants to dress and ready him for the ball on time.

Kibum shivers as he waits. It had started raining quite heavily earlier, and hasn’t let up since. Kibum is muddy and bedraggled and dripping wet in his scratchy, oversized peasant’s garb, his hair full of fallen leaves. He knows he smells like goats and is absolutely no fit companion for a prince of the realm for an official royal ball.

He groans aloud. _Why_ did he ever let Minho talk him into this? He’s going to embarrass himself horribly, he just knows it.

Finally, the wooden door swings creakily open. A short youth with a crooked smile waves and beckons for Kibum to come in out of the rain. Kibum gratefully steps inside, eyes flickering over every last inch of the dusty servants’ hallway.

“Hey,” says the youth. “I’m Jonghyun. You’re Kibum, right? Prince Minho’s escort for the night?”

Kibum nods, feeling unexpectedly shy. The youth grins and claps Kibum on one sodden shoulder.

“Come with me,” Jonghyun says cheerfully. “We’ll get you sorted in no time.”

Kibum obediently follows Jonghyun through a seemingly endless winding maze of corridors and passageways. It’s strange how half the castle is tiny and cramped and musty, and the other half is large and grand and bedecked with beautiful tapestries.

“All right, here we are,” Jonghyun says, coming to a halt in front of a closed wooden door. It looks exactly like every other door in the castle to Kibum’s untrained eye.

He pushes the door open and leads Kibum inside. The room seems to be a disused fancy sitting room, full of furniture covered in white, dusty drapes. Kibum follows Jonghyun past the furniture and to one of the doors at the edge of the room. Jonghyun pushes that door open as well, and gestures Kibum through.

As soon as Kibum takes his first step into the room beyond, he freezes, wide-eyed. There is nothing of the outer room’s disrepair in here. This is a bath far grander than any bath Kibum has ever dreamed of seeing, even the communal ones in the city proper.

There is an enormous, steaming pool of water with flower petals scattered across the smooth surface. Ceiling-high glass mirrors surround the room, reflecting the shine from a huge chandelier and an assortment of candelabras, casting the place into a glittering play of light. The floor is polished white marble, the taps and gilding on the walls silver and gold, the chandelier set with expensive gems.

There is more to the room as well, more than anyone could possibly take in at first sight.

“Wow,” Kibum breathes, staring with awe at the display. “I could buy, like, three thousand goats with all this stuff.”

Jonghyun snorts and shoves him forward. “Come on, strip,” he says. “You need to finish bathing before Taemin gets here.”

Kibum, still in shock over the sheer beauty of something as mundane as a _bath_ , doesn’t bother to ask who Taemin is. Instead, he pulls first his shirt off, then his boots and socks, then his leggings. He’s been to the city communal baths once or twice; he isn’t shy about lacking clothing in front of a stranger.

“Um, what should I do with this?” he asks once he’s peeled everything off, nudging at his heap of muddy garments with a bare foot.

“Leave it,” says Jonghyun, mouth pressing into a moue of distaste. “I’ll find someone to wash it while you’re at the ball.”

Kibum has never seen the point in washing his clothes much; they’re only ever going to smell of goat again the next day. He doesn’t argue with Jonghyun, though, being much too enthused at the idea of someone else doing his laundry for him.

“Is it really all right for me to get in that bath?” he asks. “It looks so pretty…”

Jonghyun raises an eyebrow. “So are you.”

Kibum snorts. “You don’t have to flatter me.”

“It’s not flattery,” says Jonghyun. “Why exactly do you think the prince is carrying on with you?”

“My scintillating wit, obviously,” says Kibum as haughtily as he can manage.

Jonghyun laughs, an honest, open laugh, his eyes crinkling. “Well, I won’t doubt you on that,” he says. “The bath _is_ for you, though, so I suggest you get started.”

He winks at Kibum’s nervous frown, then bends over to gingerly pick up Kibum’s heap of sodden clothing. Kibum lets him deal with that mess and walks over to the bath. He dips a toe in the water, hesitantly, marveling at the warmth. Then he slides in.

It’s the best bath he’s ever taken. He floats languidly about in the flower-scented water, letting it soak off months of dirt and goat fur and muddy rain. It’s so relaxing. Kibum doesn’t know why nobles don’t take baths five times a day just to experience this.

“Having fun?” Jonghyun calls from the edge of the bath, laughing silently again. “Swim on back, my friend. Water alone won’t make you clean.”

It won’t? Curious, Kibum paddles back, relishing the slide of the warm liquid over his naked skin.

Jonghyun sets a basket of jars down with a loud thump. He grins at Kibum’s sudden frown of apprehension.

“Relax,” he says, beckoning Kibum closer. “The nobles do this all the time. Sit on the top step here, and try not to splash me too much. I’m gonna rub some cleaning oils and perfumes onto you, then deal with your hair. Okay?”

Kibum nods and heaves himself up onto the step nearest Jonghyun. He shivers a little as cool air washes over him.

Then he starts with surprise upon feeling calloused hands upon his back. Jonghyun makes a soft, soothing noise, and Kibum forces himself still.

It’s a bit weird, having someone massage oils into one’s skin, but Kibum bears with it. Jonghyun does his back, after which he has Kibum turn around and does his front and face.

Kibum slides into the water to rinse off once Jonghyun finishes with that. Then he resurfaces and climbs out again to let Jonghyun deal with his legs, which is _twice_ as awkward as having some stranger’s hands all over his chest.

It helps that Jonghyun is very professional about the whole thing, keeping up a constant stream of cheerful chatter about the latest castle gossip as he works. Still, Kibum can’t help wishing that Minho were the one running his hands all over Kibum’s body like this…

“Okay, hair time,” Jonghyun announces finally. Kibum sighs with relief.

His relief is short-lived, however. Having someone roughly scrub soapy, foamy liquids into his scalp is actually _worse_ than having Jonghyun’s hands on his naked thighs. The stuff runs down his face and makes his eyes burn painfully. Kibum gives up any attempt to be polite and whines and complains the entire time Jonghyun cleans, conditions, scents and untangles his hair.

“You’re done!” Jonghyun sunnily proclaims after perhaps twenty minutes of this.

Kibum has never been so relieved in his _life_.

Jonghyun orders him out of the bath at that point and wraps him in a giant, fluffy warm towel. Kibum follows instructions and goes to sit in a bench in the middle of the large room, in front of a dresser piled high with alarming cosmetic instruments, and one pane of the wall’s mirrors.

As Jonghyun takes a towel to Kibum’s head in order to dry his hair, Kibum finds himself drifting off and wondering if this is how Minho bathes, all the time. Maybe, Kibum thinks hopefully, he will be able to weasel a promotion out of someone and get a job as Minho’s bath servant. Helping Minho bathe would be _so_ much nicer than cleaning goats…

“Hold still,” Jonghyun orders. He finishes with drying Kibum’s hair, sets the towel aside, and retrieves a pair of scissors. “You desperately need a haircut, dude.”

“I do not,” Kibum objects. He scowls mutinously into the mirror as Jonghyun begins clipping at his dark locks. “I just trimmed the stuff last week.”

“Yeah, badly,” says Jonghyun, and ruthlessly slices off a large chunk of Kibum’s hair. “You want to accompany the prince tonight? You need to embody the latest styles. This… _helmet_ is completely unsuitable.”

Kibum makes a face. Goats, he reflects wistfully, don’t know anything about style. _They_ are willing to let Kibum look how he likes to look, weird noble fashion trends notwithstanding.

His reflections on goats and fashion are interrupted by the arrival of three enormous racks of clothing on wheels.

“Ah! Taemin!” Jonghyun exclaims, leaving off with the snipping for the moment. Kibum breathes a sigh of temporary relief. “Here, let me help you with those.”

Some minutes later, and the three racks of clothing on wheels have been arrayed in front of the mirror, blocking Kibum’s view of his reflection. The clothes themselves are quite a variety of sizes, colors and styles.

“Kibum, Taemin,” says Jonghyun once the racks have been dealt with. “Taemin, Kibum.”

“Hey,” says Kibum, eyeing Taemin with interest. He’s a pretty youth dressed in an unremarkable servant’s tunic and leggings, with a loose ponytail of soft hair.

“Hi,” says Taemin and smiles. “Ignore me while I figure out what to put on you. Prince Minho was _so_ unhelpful when I asked him for a description.”

“I know, right?” Jonghyun says, sympathetic. “He just kept going on and on, like- _ah, Kibum is so beautiful, you wouldn’t even believe it, like the sun shining from the heavens upon sparkling pieces of twenty-four karat gold_ -”

“Stop it,” says Kibum, embarrassed. “He didn’t say anything like that.”

“Oh, but he did,” says Taemin, absently ruffling through the racks of garments. “I kept trying to tell him that ‘the most gorgeous creature ever’ is not exactly _helpful_ when deciding on style, but…” he shrugs. “Didn’t help.”

Kibum can’t stop blushing. Jonghyun just laughs.

~~~

Over an hour later, Kibum has been shoved in and out of far too many pieces of clothing to count. His hair has been sprayed and styled, his face painted with cosmetics and his person laced with enough jewels to make his eyes cross from the sheer expensiveness of everything.

“Excellent,” says Taemin happily once they’re through. “Everything suits you so well.”

“It really does,” Jonghyun chimes in. “We’re running late, though. Off to see the prince!”

Kibum tries to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirrors as they leave, but can’t, his view blocked by the dressers and Taemin and Jonghyun clinging to his sides.

He doesn’t really believe their compliments, of course. He feels ridiculous, like a doll dressed in silly clothing. He just hopes Minho won’t mind him turning up looking so odd.

Honestly, who puts jewels on their _boots_ , anyway?

~~~

Minho waits impatiently in his quarters for Kibum to be brought in. He’s very much looking forward to this night and has to admit to a certain curiosity as to what exactly Kibum will look like out of his usual peasants’ garb. Not much different, he suspects, because Kibum is lovely no matter what, but he can’t help wondering nonetheless.

A tap on his door alerts him that Jonghyun and Taemin have brought Kibum to him. Minho lifts his voice and calls for them to come in.

The door swings open and Kibum steps in.

Minho feels his jaw drop in surprise. He hadn’t thought it possible for Kibum to ever be more attractive than he already is, but he’d been dead wrong.

Taemin had dressed him in all red and black, from the high-collared shirt to the fitted jacket and knee-high leather boots. The jacket and boots both have small jeweled chains stitched in at certain points which accentuate the lines of Kibum’s body. The cufflinks are glittering insets of silver and rubies, calling attention to the unmistakable elegance of Kibum’s hands.

As for Kibum’s former long fluff of hair, Jonghyun had done miraculous things to it, including trimming it shorter and attaching bright threads of red and gold into it here and there. The cosmetics adorning Kibum’s face have done wonders as well, somehow making his eyes not just pretty but sharply feline, and accentuating the moue of his lips and the cut of his cheekbones.

Jonghyun and Taemin high-five each other and close the door to leave them alone. Minho just stares wordlessly at the sheer gorgeousness of his lover.

“Um,” says Kibum nervously when Minho continues to gape at him in silence. “I know they tried really hard to make me look nice, but I’m sorry if it turned out kind of weird-”

“I- what?” says Minho blankly. “Weird? Kibum, you look  _amazing_.”

Kibum’s ears go red, a sure sign of his embarrassment.

“You don’t have to try and make me feel better-”

“I’m _not_.” Minho comes forward and runs a reverent fingertip along the sharp line of Kibum’s jaw.  His voice dips lower, deeper, huskier, making Kibum shiver. “You’ve always been pretty but looking at you now… I wish we didn’t have to go to this ball.”

“Y-you don’t?” Kibum says, shivering harder. Minho leans forward.

“No,” he purrs, hot into Kibum’s ear. He inhales dizzying scents both darkly sweet and spicy, like roses and cinnamon. “I want to press you against the door right now and do unspeakable things to you all night long.”

“Jonghyun and Taemin might object to that,” Kibum breathes, tipping his head back to let Minho nuzzle against his throat. “They didn’t spend hours putting me in this get-up only for you to rip it off at the first sight of me.”

Minho feigns a sigh and draws back. “True. I’ll try to restrain myself, then.”

He smiles down at Kibum, warm and bright. Kibum smiles back, still clearly a little worried about what the ball might entail. Minho offers an arm and quirks an eyebrow in an attempt to be reassuring.

“Ready?”

Kibum sighs and takes his arm. “As much as I’ll ever be.”

~~~

The ball winds up being much easier to handle than Kibum had expected.

Most of the nobles are horrified and disapproving at Kibum’s presence. At the same time, they are forced to be excruciatingly polite to him due to the fact that he is here at the prince’s personal invitation. This situation might have made anyone else miserably nervous, but Kibum takes a sadistic glee in acting deliberately uncouth and seeing the stuck-up assholes bite their tongues and smile at him anyway.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Minho accuses him softly after one noble, a little green in the face, had to excuse himself to go deal with newfound epiphanies on goat birthing processes.

Kibum flutters his eyelashes up at the prince. “Doing what? I told you I have no social niceties to speak of. My expertise is in goats, not small talk.”

Minho sighs, exasperated, and tugs him towards the dancefloor.

Several waltzes later, they leave the dancefloor and head off in search of refreshments. Kibum feels dizzy, and not just from how closely Minho had been holding him as they whirled about the marble ballroom floor. Said whirling had been a bit much. So had Kibum’s inability to waltz. He’s fairly sure he’d waltzed more on Minho’s feet than the actual floor.

“Ah, Jinki,” Minho says suddenly to someone. “How are you?”

“Fine, thank you. And you, your highness?”

Kibum turns about to eye Lord Jinki with great interest. He’s a very nice-looking man with a pleasant smile, dressed in an unassuming dark green suit. He does not at all look like someone who would lose a bet and bring a rooster to a royal ball.

“Jinki, have you met Kibum?” Minho asks, drawing Kibum forward. “My escort for tonight.”

Kibum sweeps an awkward bow. “Hi.”

“Hello,” says Jinki. He beams. “How are you finding the ball, Kibum?”

“It’s interesting,” Kibum says honestly. “The food is excellent.”

Jinki brightens further. “Ah, yes, the kitchens always do come through with the best dishes for affairs like this…”

Minho clears his throat. “I think I’ll leave the two of you to talk for a bit,” he says. “I need to make the rounds and play prince in a way that does not involve, er, goats.”

Kibum smiles at him in an attempt to conceal his sudden alarm at the prospect of being left alone.

“How long will you be?”

“I don’t know.” Minho steps closer and brushes the back of one hand against Kibum’s cheek, tender. “Jinki will take care of you in the meantime, all right?”

“Kibum is a grown man,” says Jinki, bemusedly. “I’m sure he doesn’t need me to look after him.”

“It’s not so much him I’m worried about as everyone else,” Minho says truthfully, and yelps when Kibum steps on his foot. “Ow!”

Jinki covers his mouth in an eye-crinkling laugh. Kibum smirks and tugs Minho in for a quick kiss.

“You go off and have fun being all royal and boring,” Kibum coos, releasing his lover. “I’ll stay here with Lord Jinki so he can tell me fun stories about you.”

Minho’s eyes bulge, alarmed. “Um, I’m sure Jinki doesn’t know anything-”

“Didn’t you say you were childhood friends?” Kibum flatters Jinki with a smugly dimpled smile. “Don’t worry about us, my prince, we’ll just be here, chatting. About you. And your childhood.”

Minho opens and closes his mouth several times, resembling rather a fish out of water. Then he shakes his head, reaches out to briefly touch his fingers to Kibum’s shoulder, and turns on his heel to wander off into the crowd.

“So,” says Kibum, once Minho has vanished out of sight. “Um…”

“Yes?”

With Minho gone, Kibum suddenly feels a lot less sure of himself. He blurts out the first thing that comes to mind:

 “Did you really once take a rooster to a royal ball?”

As soon as the words are out of his throat, Kibum winces. Oh, sure, _great_ way to endear himself to one of Minho’s close friends…

Jinki, though, just chokes and shakes his head. “He told you that? I’m going to kill him, prince or no.”

Well, if Jinki isn’t going to be annoyed at _him_ … Kibum’s eyes widen innocently.

“Don’t be embarrassed, my lord. I greatly respect such an act of great daring and originality.”

“I see why he likes you,” Jinki says dryly. “Your talent for sarcasm is unmatched.” A faint smile curves the edges of his mouth. “If you must know, that awful bet was entirely his fault.”

Kibum blinks with surprise. “He didn’t mention that.”

“No, I can’t imagine he would have.” Jinki’s eyes glitter devilishly. “You see, the two of us frequently go riding through the fields about the castle. It offers us an opportunity to talk without the flies on the walls listening in, or so to speak.”

Kibum nods. “A lot of nobles do that; I’ve seen them from the pens I work in.”

“Yes, well…” Jinki fiddles with his cuffs. “After a while, it came to my attention that as we rode through a particular part of a particular field, the prince would tend to get…distracted.”

“Distracted?”

“Yes,” says Jinki. “Distracted. _Very_ distracted. He almost fell off his horse one time because he wasn’t watching what he was doing.”

Kibum snorts at the idea of Minho falling off a horse. He then hastily puts his hand to his mouth.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.”

“No, go ahead, it _was_ rather amusing,” says Jinki, patting his arm. “So naturally, I asked him what on earth was on his mind. After some prying- he was very embarrassed about the whole thing- I discovered that for the past few months, he’d started noticing a very pretty goatherd working in some pens at the far end of that field.”

Kibum stares at him, mouth open in surprise.

“He- _what_?”

Jinki grins at him. “Surely it’s obvious that I’m alluding to you? In any case, after that I kept telling him to suck it up and go over and talk to you. He kept refusing, because he was scared.”

“Scared? Of what, _me_?”

Jinki laughs. “Our prince can be quite shy sometimes, though you wouldn’t know it from his practiced social manner.” He shakes his head. “In the end, I got fed up with him gazing like a lovelorn pup at you every time we passed through the field, and bet him that he would never find the guts to go and talk to you.”

Kibum’s eyes gleam. “But he did come talk to me.”

Jinki sighs. “Yes, and so he won the bet, and thus I was forced to bring that damn rooster to the ball.” He shakes his head. “I knew he wouldn’t refuse a challenge. In the end, though, I think my rooster woes were worth it. The prince is very much in love with you, you know? I’m pleased to see him so happy.”

Kibum shifts, a little embarrassed at these words. All the same, a response is called for.

“I feel the same way about him,” he says quietly.

“Good, I’m glad,” says Jinki, clapping him on the shoulder.

They share an understanding, grateful smile. Then Kibum realizes he wants to know something else.

“What was his side of the bet? If he _hadn’t_ come to speak to me, I mean.”

“Ah, that,” says Jinki, flustered again. “Er, well since I keep a pet rooster, the choice of bet for me was obvious. But for him, well…since he’d fallen for a goatherd, if he’d lost, he’d have had to take a goat to a ball. And kissed it at said ball. Rather thoroughly.”

Kibum breaks into loud peals of laughter.

~~~

Minho usually doesn’t mind the socializing aspect of these balls, but tonight he’s rather impatient to be back in Kibum’s presence. Thus, everything seems five times more boring than it usually is.

After an hour or two, he’s _finally_ paid enough attention to the rest of the attendees, and manages to start making his way back to the corner where he’d left Kibum and Jinki. He hopes Jinki hasn’t been telling Kibum anything _too_ embarrassing. He wants Kibum to think well of him, after all.

Soon enough, he catches sight of Kibum and Jinki. They’ve found a seat on one of the benches near the far wall. They’re also holding empty glasses of fine wine and giggling in a manner that suggests said glasses are not their first.

“Hey,” says Minho once he’s within conversational distance. “Miss me?”

Jinki takes a delicate sip of nothing. Kibum tilts his head back to look up at Minho and grins.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Kibum sing-songs, coyly twirling the wine glass about his fingers.

“Cute,” says Minho mildly. He steps closer and threads his fingers through Kibum’s hair, ignoring the carefully-styled waves, and tugs Kibum’s head back to rest against his hip. “How many of those have you had?”

“Um, too many, I think,” says Jinki guiltily. His eyes slowly focus on where Kibum is sighing happily as Minho scratches his fingernails gently against his scalp. “I was introducing Kibum to some of the finer brands in the royal stock.”

“You own some really great alcohol,” Kibum informs Minho, tapping his wine glass against Minho’s thigh. “I like it. Don’t worry,” he adds seriously. “I like you more.”

“I think you’re a little drunk,” says Minho. He should probably be irritated about that, but it’s hard to be irritated with either Jinki or Kibum. It’s like getting upset with a pair of fluffy kittens. “Jinki, are you-”

“I think I’ll give the two of you some alone time,” says Jinki. “Also don’t kill me for telling him about…things.”

“Things?” says Minho. “What things? Jinki? Jinki!”

It’s too late; Jinki has expertly vanished into the crowd. Minho sighs and glances down at Kibum, who is now happily nuzzling his face into Minho’s hip.

“You want to go for a walk?” he asks, plucking the wine glass from Kibum’s fingers and handing it off to a passing server. “I can take you through some of the gardens…”

“Sounds nice,” says Kibum. He gets to his feet, using Minho for leverage and swaying a little. “Oh, wow, that stuff _was_ a lot stronger than I thought.”

“It takes a while to hit you,” Minho agrees. He tucks his arm under Kibum’s, offering some support. “The gardens are all right, though?”

“Yes,” Kibum says. He squeezes their hands together. “Lead the way.”

Minho leads him out through a side corridor, dodging people as they go, and towards the entrance to the gardens. Kibum is a warm presence at his side, humming contentedly and unaffected by the baffled looks the passers-by are sneaking at them.

“So,” says Minho as they walk, unable to stifle his curiosity any longer. “What exactly _did_ Jinki tell you?”

Kibum smirks. “A lot of things. Why? Is there something in particular you want to know?”

“I, no, not really, just…” Minho heaves a sigh, scowling at the floor. “I don’t want to seem ridiculous to you.”

“Oh, my prince...”

Kibum tugs them to a halt, his expression becoming serious. Minho frowns at him, wondering if Jinki really _has_ told him something deeply embarrassing.

“Look,” says Kibum, biting his lip earnestly. “I really like you, okay? I won’t stop liking you just because you fell off your horse once because you got distracted by me. I _promise_.”

Minho glares, less at Kibum than at the treacherous specter of Jinki. “He _told_ you that? Why that ungrateful little-”

Kibum leans forward and cuts him off with a quick, amused kiss. Mission accomplished, he then settles back on his heels.

“I’m not going to think differently of you just because you have unprincely moments sometimes,” Kibum says firmly. “In fact, I like you more because you have them.”

“Really,” says Minho, still dubious.

“ _Yes_ ,” says Kibum. “I promise. Speaking of which…why were you so nervous about talking to me in the first place, anyway? Lord Jinki said you were scared of me or something.”

Minho winces. “I, um, well…some of those goats can be pretty vicious, you know? I figured anyone who wrangles them for a living had to be pretty scary as well.”

Kibum stares at him for a moment, then falls over and clings to him, laughing. Minho glowers at the ceiling. He also settles an arm about Kibum’s waist to keep him from collapsing on the floor with amusement, because Kibum _would_.

“See, this is exactly why I didn’t want him to tell you…”

“No, no, no,” gasps Kibum, straightening. “It’s just- you’re so _cute_!”

“I am not cute,” Minho objects. “I’m a prince!”

“A cute prince,” Kibum says, undeterred. He wraps his arms about Minho’s chest in a tight hug and beams at him. “ _My_ cute prince.”

Minho sighs, smiling despite himself. Kibum’s beam deepens. He leans in to lick playfully at Minho’s jawline.

“Besides,” Kibum adds. “If you ever want revenge, just go chat up my grandmother. She’ll tell you _everything_ embarrassing I ever did as a kid, I swear.”

Minho can’t help but to laugh. “All right,” he says. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

~~~

The gardens are indeed every bit as beautiful as rumoured. Kibum finds them a bit difficult to pay attention to, however. The wine in his system makes the gardens hazy and unimportant in comparison to the handsome prince at his side, guiding him through the flowered pathways.

They finally make their way to a white latticed gazebo in the middle of the garden, near a gently flowing brook and sheltered by the sweep of several trees. Minho takes Kibum by the elbow and brings him to the edge of the gazebo, pointing down to where one can see glittery fish swimming about in the water below.

Kibum smiles at the sight, then returns his attention to Minho’s face, which is much better-looking than any fish.

Minho notices his distraction and chuckles, leaning their foreheads together.

“There’s a tradition about this place,” Minho tells him. “Supposedly, if you first kiss your sweetheart here, the fish will bless your relationship with good fortune.”

Kibum rolls his eyes. “Silly superstition.”

“I know.” Minho nuzzles his nose against Kibum’s cheek. “A lot of lovesick teenagers wind up making out here anyway.”

Kibum laughs softly and curls his fingers into Minho’s jacket front. “Are you hinting at something?”

“It wouldn’t be our first kiss.”

“It’s our first kiss in these gardens,” says Kibum helpfully. “It’s also our first kiss being witnessed by fish. Also our first kiss in the past eight minutes. Also-”

Minho snorts with amusement. “All right, all right, I get the point.” He draws back a little, grinning. “Although, you know, I’m not sure if that last one is entirely accurate-”

“Oh, shut up,” says Kibum, and leans in to kiss him.

Minho moans almost immediately, arms tightening about Kibum’s waist as the kiss deepens. They linger against each other, relishing every mingled breath and teasing curl of tongue. Kibum nips lightly at Minho’s lower lip, the way he knows Minho likes, and has the pleasure of feeling the prince shiver eagerly against him.

“Mm,” breathes Minho when they finally part, both a little breathless. “Kibum…”

Kibum cards his fingers through Minho’s soft hair. “Yes?”

Minho kisses him again, a quick, tender little press of his mouth to Kibum’s own.

“Did you enjoy tonight?”

Kibum settles his hands on Minho’s shoulders, smiling a little at the barely-hidden anxiousness in Minho’s query.

“Almost,” he says. “Everything was mostly very nice. There was just one thing…”  
  
“What is it?” asks Minho, leaning in, intent. “Did one of the nobles say something-”

“Oh, please,” Kibum scoffs. “Like I care about the opinions of some puffed-up baron who doesn’t know a Korean Black Goat from a Messinese.” He rolls his eyes. “No, it was just…I mean, I got to see how you nobles take baths, right?”

Minho nods, brows furrowed. “Was there something wrong with the bath?”

Kibum shakes his head. “No, of course not. It was wonderful. I guess it just made me wonder, well…” He plays with the tassels at Minho’s shoulders, fighting to keep from smirking. “If your baths are that amazing, are your beds that nice as well?”

Minho stares at him, then huffs out an exasperated breath.

“ _Kibum_.”

“What?” Kibum flutters his eyelashes innocently up at Minho. “You know, it would only be polite of you to assuage my curiosity in this matter.”

“Oh, I’ll assuage more than that,” says Minho, voice deepening to almost a growl.  “In fact, I think the only way to go about said assuaging is for me to provide you with a personal demonstration.”

“I agree,” says Kibum, nodding. “Demonstrate away, my- _eep_!”

He breaks off when Minho cups Kibum’s face in his hands and kisses him again, long and hard. Kibum melts into the kiss, all but purring with delight until Minho steps away.

Kibum wrinkles his nose in dissatisfaction at the kiss ending. Minho winks and holds out a hand.

“I think we’d better continue this in bed,” Minho says, expression entirely serious. “There are certain aspects of my demonstration that are not appropriate for public view. We might traumatize the fish.”

Kibum laughs and reaches forward to take his prince’s hand.

_Yes_ , he thinks contentedly. _Tonight has been_ very _good, after all._

And it looks about to only get better.


End file.
